


Over the barricades

by cervolina



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, No blood or cannibalism, One Shot, Playing the Piano, just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 16:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7060468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cervolina/pseuds/cervolina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Hannibal smiled. “Maybe I can teach you?”</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Will puffed a silent laughter. “Try it if you want, but I assure you that I’m a terrible student – and I haven’t played in ages.”, he added.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“One does never truly unlearn these things, you just need to find back into practise again. Come here!”</em>
</p>
<p>This is just a fluffy little scene of Will and Hannibal playing the piano together. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over the barricades

**Author's Note:**

> Since my other current work "As dark a night as many" has reached a pretty dark point of its plot, I wanted to write something short and fluffy for a change ;) (I will still continue the other fic soon)  
> This story is a stand-alone and can be read as a post-TWOTL-fic. It's not beta-d, so all mistakes are my own ;)  
> Let the fluff begin! ;)

Actually Will had expected dinner to be ready when he got home. He’d been out fishing all afternoon, it had been scorching hot outside and his sunburned shoulders ached from sitting motionless for hours. He hadn’t caught much anyhow and so he’d really been looking forward to coming home to a set table and a delicious meal, sweetening the air with its scent. It was certainly one of the perks of living with Hannibal: one was never at risk to starve or having to satisfy one’s appetite with cheap snacks. Everything was exquisite and tasty and served like a proper artwork. He admired Hannibal’s skills in that, knowing it was his way to express devotion, though, after Will’s fancy, he was overdoing it sometimes.

But today the table in the dining room was blank, except for a half-empty glass of white wine, apparently Hannibal’s. There wasn’t anybody in the kitchen either and as Will shouted for “Hannibal!”, wondering if the other had gone out for some reason, he suddenly perceived a faint melody, coming from upstairs. Hannibal was playing the piano.

When they had bought the house, Hannibal had insisted on purchasing a piano. Of course. First, he’d favoured a harpsichord as it was “superior to all other instruments in its sound”, but Will had refused, calling it “beautiful, but sometimes a bit too rattling” (he’d received a deep frown from Hannibal for that). In the end they’d decided to get an electric piano, for it had a big assortment of all kinds of instrumental sounds available and could be muted if necessary (which was quite often the case, as Hannibal especially preferred to practise between 2 and 3 in the morning). Hannibal had declined buying one at first, because it was clearly something below his taste, but when he admitted that it did actually sound pretty good, they’d both agreed on getting an elegant exemplar made of dark wood with a beautiful soft harpsichord sound selectable.

Will paused to listen. It was a bright melody, sweet and light-hearted, like summer. Very quietly, not to miss a single tone, he sneaked upstairs and stood before the closed door, pressing his ear to it to listen to Hannibal playing the last notes of the piece, extending the last chord emphatically. Then he gently knocked.

“Please, come in, Will!”, was the cheerful answer.

When Will entered he found Hannibal smiling at him, gently stroking the keys while doing so. He looked so blissful, so happy, that Will’s slight anger about the lack of dinner vanished within seconds.

“You look pretty exhausted, if I’m allowed to say so.”, he told Will. “Did you have any luck with the fishes?”

Will was observing him, still captivated by the fading remains of the melody warming the air in faint colours.

Hannibal looked at him in expectation of an answer to the previous question.

“What...oh, the fishes, yes, well actually no. They’re probably all too weary to snap at the bait on a hot day like this. What – what piece was that?”, he asked in awe.

Hannibal’s smile widened. “ _Les barricades mystèrieuses_ by François Couperin. Certainly one of the most beautiful pieces for harpsichord ever written. I just recently found the sheet of music again when re-arranging my library.”

“It is really stunning, so...blithe.”, Will said.

“I agree. And can you imagine that it was written at the beginning of the 18th century? Music as bright and joyful as this wasn’t exactly prevalent in that time. That makes it especially precious, in my opinion.”

Hannibal started to put away the sheets that were spread all over the top of the e-piano.

Will went up to him and only stopped once he stood close behind him. Hannibal paused in his actions.

“Could you play it again?”, Will asked with a smile. “For me?”

Hannibal returned the smile, slightly confused, as Will seldom cared to listen to his music. The hours here were mostly spent alone, while Will was out fishing or working on his boat. Sometimes he popped in for a second afterwards to let him know he was back and chat a little about how he’d been doing, but the music was rarely a topic of their conversations. Hannibal had often thought it a pity that with all the similarities and preferences they shared, music of all things was something they didn’t seem to have the same interest in. For Hannibal, music was a refuge; the door to a world where he was not who he was, where everything was loose and he was allowed to dream any dream. To Will, music was more or less entertaining, like many things were. He liked to listen to the radio now and then, when working or relaxing on the couch, simultaneously petting any of the three dogs they owned, but it was only of use to fill the silence. He had never experienced the kind of deep bond to it Hannibal had.

Hannibal returned to the keyboard and rearranged the sheets on the music stand, before gently placing his fingers on the piano keys again.

Breathed in, breathed out, then he began to play.

The tones were melting from the keyboard, streaming out between Hannibal’s fingers as he caressed the piano in deep emotion. Will was totally captured by the way Hannibal’s hands moved over the keys, tickling out the sound and making it look intriguingly effortless at the same time. After a while he managed to close his eyes and let the melody surround him completely. His hands gently rested on Hannibal’s shoulders as he listened.

When Hannibal played a specifically emotional part, Will suddenly felt a twinge in his chest. The kind of twinge that reminds you that you’ve missed out on something in life. That he could have learned to play like this; could have sneaked into that room at night and practised until one day he’d surprised Hannibal with his skills. And then they’d have played together, interconnecting another part of their lives. And way before, he could have played on his own - filled the silence that had so often threatened to suffocate him in his lonely house at Wolf Trap. He had almost never touched his own piano there. Partly because it was terribly out of tune anyway, but it had also been some kind of silent reminder of the fact that he’d given up to practise long ago and now didn’t care enough to start again. It was simply that too much time had passed.

He listened to Hannibal finishing his performance and stroked the palm of his left hand slowly over the other’s neck as the last tone faded away.

“Beautiful.”, he said. “I wish I could play like this.”

There – it had just slipped out of him. He hadn’t intended to tell him.

Hannibal smiled. “Maybe I can teach you?”

Will puffed a silent laughter. “Try it if you want, but I assure you that I’m a terrible student – and I haven’t played in ages.”, he added.

“One does never truly unlearn these things, you just need to find back into practise again. Come here!”

He patted the space next to him on the bench. Reluctantly Will sat down beside him, coyly waiting for further instructions.

“To begin, play a few scales, let your fingers find the keys.”, Hannibal assigned him.

It took some time for Will to position his hands correctly. Then he started – up and down scales. C-Major first, then A-minor, G-Major, and so on; constantly increasing the number of black keys. It was a strange feeling, but it wasn’t completely forgotten. Somehow his hands began to explore the keyboard themselves, guiding him from one tone to the next and he was following them in astonishment.

“Very good!”, Hannibal interrupted him after a while, gently taking his hands away from the keyboard. “So now we shall start with a simple melody. I have a specific piece in mind that I myself haven’t played for a long time and I think it is possible to play it four handed.”

Will looked at him mildly confused. “You want us to play together?”

“Sure!”, said Hannibal, as he went up to the shelf and started rummaging through his folders.

“But I’m horrible at reading music, honestly! It will take hours for me to learn my part!”

“You don’t have to read them, I’ll just show you how to play a few times and you then play it by heart. Believe me, it is far easier than it sounds.”

Will opened his mouth to object, but then decided that if Hannibal was as good a teacher at the piano as he was at every other thing , then he’d find them a piece of music he’d be able to play.

Just a moment later the other returned, a triumphant smile on his face and a thin booklet in his hand. He handed it to Will.

“ _Primavera_ by Ludovico Einaudi?”, he asked, then grinned. “Don’t tell me you’ve only chosen this because of the title!”

“No, my dear Will, that wasn’t the reason. Even though I do like the title and what it reminds me of.“ He smiled. “It is a modern piece for two hands, but I think we can split it and each of us can play one hand.”

“Very well.”, Will replied, briefly scanning over the notes. “Never thought you played this kind of music. It is far too modern and simple for you, isn’t it?”

“Dated and complicated doesn’t always equal beautiful, just like modern and simple doesn’t have to be a bad thing. I can appreciate any kind of music, if it is composed from the heart and with the purpose to give delight.”

Will nodded. “So, show me how to play my part.”

Hannibal scooted over to sit closer to him and began playing the first few bars. Will repeated after him. Then the next few. They went on like this until the end of the piece and then they started over again. And again. And again.

Hannibal was a quite patient teacher and politely left Wills mistakes uncommented, showing him a better fingering instead. After some more runs Will’s playing became more fluent and finally he was able to get through the whole piece without missing a note.

Next to him, Hannibal smiled proudly. “Bravo! Do you think I can join in?”

“I think we can try.”

The first three times they had to break off after some bars because Will had lost track again, but the fourth time it worked out. The four of their hands were flying over the keyboard, sticking to the rhythm and their two parts melting into one. The piece actually was incredibly simple, but it had a captivating charm that painted the picture of spring quite beautifully. Will played the pretty simply composed accompaniment to Hannibal’s interpretation of the principal theme and it was amazing how well they worked together. The solo in the middle of the piece was played by Hannibal alone and Will thought he could forever dwell in the look of him doing so. It was an image of grace and gratitude.

After the last chords had faded away, they both kept their fingers resting on the keyboard for some longer, waiting for the silence to swallow their work neck and crop.

Will turned to face Hannibal and found utter bliss in his eyes.

“Magnificent, Will!”, he whispered, careful, as if to safe the precious silence in which the ghost of the melody still lingered.

On Will’s face a big smile began to spread and the twinge in his chest got replaced by warmth as he leant towards Hannibal and granted him a soft kiss on the lips. The other placed one hand at the back of his head and pulled him close while stealing him another few kisses. Their lips started to meld with every movement and just as the kiss grew more heated and passionate, a loud gurgling sound broke the silence and killed the moment. It was Will’s stomach.

It was so loud and sudden that it made Hannibal jump back startled and Will felt himself instantly blush.

“It’s...it’s just my...you know. I really wish you had made dinner!”, he stuttered deeply embarrassed.

Hannibal couldn’t stop laughing the whole way downstairs.

 

* * *

 

 

For those of you who are interested, here are links to the two piano pieces mentioned:

[_Les barricades mystèrieuses_ (François Couperin)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sf-LMHrslHw)

[_Primavera_ (Ludovico Einaudi)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QyaSU6zZidg)

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always happy to receive feedback! :)


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